A Weather Witch and a God of Thunder
by Practicing4aPulitzer
Summary: The Avengers and X-Men meet in the wake of the NYC alien invasion and Thor and Storm see how much they have in common.
1. Chapter 1

Even though I've worked at a school for gifted students for several years, I can confidently say that I've never been in a room with such exceptional people before. Jean Grey and I exchange looks and the stars in her eyes are mirrored in mine. The Avengers. The earth's mightiest heroes in this classroom, wedged into too-small desks, politely waiting for Professor X and Director Fury to begin the meeting. Well, most of them, anyway. The one called Iron Man leans against the window sill, clearly too good for the desks. Logan stands with him, an unlit cigar perched on his bottom lip. I spare him a reproachful glance and nod at the empty seat beside me. He shakes his head and I can hear him in my mind as if I have telepathy: "Not a chance, babe."

Professor X clears his throat and the already quiet classroom gets quieter still. Beside me, the Black Widow untucks her legs from under her bottom and leans forward like an eager student. Hawkeye is perched on the desk beside her, eschewing the chair altogether. The two give Professor X attentive looks. I turn away from them, determined not to be another starstruck fan. I have pulled clouds from the sky to drown my enemies. I am pretty impressive myself. This thought bolsters me and I turn my attention to Professor X as he continues a sentence whose beginning I have missed.

"...between our two groups could benefit the planet and quite possibly the known universe. In the event of another crisis like that in New York last year, more troops could save lives." Here Professor X looks at Iron Man, who has made a scoffing sound.

Iron Man tilts his metal head. "I think we handled ourselves just fine," he says.

"You died," Scott points out. He is seated two to the left of me and I can only see the back of his head, but his tone suggests he is wearing that long-suffering expression reserved for Logan and Jehovah's Witnesses.

Iron Man shrugs. "I made a miraculous recovery."

Another of the Avengers-of medium build and quiet attitude-clears his throat and the metallic man adds, "With a little help from a friend."

Dr. Banner nods, gratified.

"Maybe if we had a little more help, no one would need to die in the first place," Director Fury says. He raises his chin and glares at Iron Man. I hide a smile behind my hand. Director Fury is like a grim dad.

Iron Man shrugs again. "We barely work as team with just the six of us. You want us to take on a bunch of professors." I curl my lip at him. His arrogance is less charming than Logan's. Jean and I trade looks again and I am unsurprised to see a glimmer of interest in her eyes. For all that Jean is happily married to a good, kind man, she has a soft spot for assholes.

Director Fury narrows his good eye. "Anyone else from the Avengers feel this way? That we barely work as a team now? That we don't need any help?" His belligerent tone does not invite more criticism of the plan.

The crew-cut man-Captain America-speaks up. "I say we can use all the troops we have, so long as our goals and values are the same."

"Simmer down, Captain Patriot." Iron Man mutters.

Black Widow and Hawkeye are silent.

Thor-the massive blond with the hammer-stands. He looked ridiculous crammed into one of the desk-chair combinations meant for children a third his size. "I cannot always be here to attend to human matters," he says like an actor on a Shakespearian stage. "I would rest easy knowing there are many to fight in my stead."

Logan chuckles. I watch as Thor retakes his seat, unembarrassed, sincere to the core. It is a rare sight, a man giving a heartfelt opinion without a shred of awkwardness. Then again, he is a god. What are the opinions of mere mortals to him?. Thor's eyes rest on me for a split second and my heart clatters .

"That was very eloquently put, Son of Odin," Beast says. He claps a large, blue hand on Thor's shoulder.

The god's eyebrows raise in surprise, but to his credit, he recovers quickly.

"What is your power, Blue Son of Earth?" he asks politely.

Before Beast can answer, Director Fury claps his hands together. "That's a good idea, Thor. Why don't you all mingle and get to know each other. It'll help faciliate friendliness."

Logan growls impatiently and pushes off from the wall. "I don't have time for this shit." He stalks from the room.

There is an awkward bubble of silence, before Tony turns to Colossus. "So, uh, what's your suit made of?"

I don't hear Colossus answer, because suddenly every one is talking to everyone. Jean plucks at my sleeve. "Can you believe Logan?"

"I don't know how he manages with all that snark and ego!" I retort.

"He could learn a thing or two from Metal Man." She jerks her head in Iron Man's direction: he has assembled a fan club quickly and is entertaining them all with the tricks of his suit.

"His name is Iron Man," I correct.

"And I thought our names were stupid," Jean quips.

"Phoenix is a lovely name," a voice intrudes. Jean and I look up at Thor, then hastily jump to our feet to reduce the height difference. He still towers over us.

"Thanks," Jean says, clearly flustered. "It could have been worse."

"It could have been Storm," I joke.

Thor turns his serious gaze on me. I have always stood eye-to-eye with most men, but my nose barely grazes Thor's gold-stubbled chin. It's a real superhero kind of chin, too. It juts forward from the hard lines of his jaw with a sort of righteous attitude. If I were less self-possesed, I might feel a little weak-kneed right now. Especially as I remember that Thor is a god. A god with eyes as blue as lightning.

"Storm," Thor repeats. "You are the one who commands the skies ."

A laugh bubbles up at his quaint phrasing. "Something like that," I say.

"I would love to see you some time," he says, "See your skills. I have never met anyone else like me."

Another laugh escapes my lips. It's like my brain has turned to champagne bubbles, though I haven't had a sip to drink. "I'm no god," I say. "And I hardly have the most interesting power in the room."

"It doesn't do to underestimate ourselves," Thor says. He takes my hands in his to punctuate his statement. I don't pull away.

Jean clears her throat. "I think I'll just go meet Dr. Banner, now. I'm a big fan of his work."

Thor nods and he releases my hands. I can feel the warm imprint of them. I've always liked men with big, hot hands. "I hear you are also a scientist," Thor is saying to Jean.

She nods, then looks embarrassed. I can guess why. "Is that all you heard?" she asks. I wonder if she looks into his mind as she asks this. I don't know what kind of etiquette she follows with her telepathy powers.

Thor smiles sympathetically and places one large hand on each of Jean's shoulders. "I heard you lost control once. I heard that you brought yourself back from the brink with the help of friends. Bruce will empathize with your journey." He pats her arms. "You are a brave woman. Do not worry what others think of your missteps."

Jean's eyes glitter and she dashes away.

I am left alone with the god of thunder. "You handled that very well," I say.

"Handled?" Thor repeats. "I merely spoke the truth."

I look away from Thor to Jean speaking with Dr. Banner. Her eyes are animated and she moves her hands wildly. Across the classroom, Scott and Iron Man are having an intense conversation. Scott still has scars from Jean's loss of control. "There are different versions of the truth," I say, strangely compelled to explain this to Thor, although it may be disloyal. "In some versions, Jane went absolutely insane and _evil_."

Thor folds his arms over his chest. They are roped with muscle and covered in light, gold hairs that glint in the light. "I am not interested in that version of truth. It is irrelevant to the path the Phoenix is on now. She flamed too bright and has been reborn to try again."

I consider him, for a moment too flummoxed to give a proper response. "Gods really are better than humans," I say.

Thor shakes his head. "Humans are capable of a great deal. And besides, my brother is a god and he is not better than the least of you. He is-" Thor searches for the words. I touch his wrist to let him know that words are unnecessary.

"He has lost control," I say.

Thor nods and runs a hand through his hair. If he were anyone but a god, I would say his hair is too long. As it is, I'd like to run _my _hands through it. It is the color of wheat with shades of rye beer and expensive champagne thrown in for contrast. Models pay through the nose for those kind of highlights. I realize that I have been staring at him too long, but then again, he has also been staring at me.

"What are the odds," I say-my mouth dry. I manipulate the air around me to pull in more moisture and continue, "What are the odds that a being from another world could so closely resemble the people of earth?" I touch his chest for emphasis. It is hard and unyielding.

Thor shrugs his broad shoulders. "The mysteries of the universe are vast and impenetrable. What are the chances that I-a being from another planet, wielder of lightning and hammer-would meet you, a wind dancer, a rain whisperer, an artist of cloud and snow?"

A smile tugs at my lips. "You do know how to turn a phrase," I say.

Thor frowns. "I have been told my speech is antiquated," he admits.

I look around the classroom at my colleagues and the Avengers, talking about our powers and the world. "Everything is moving forward so fast. We could use a little antiquated."

"Did someone ask for something old?" Captain America asks, joining Thor and me. He salutes me smartly. "Steve," he says, "Steve Rogers. Someone told me you're a queen."

"Was a queen," I correct. Before Thor can ask the question on his lips, I continue, "You were frozen in the ocean, right? Or is that just another rumor?"

"For eighty years," Steve says. "So I know a little something about antiquated. Although," he covers his mouth and mock-whispers, "Shakespeare here puts me to shame."

Thor looks around. "I do not know this warrior Shake Spear," he says.

Steve and I laugh and Thor smiles with amused confusion.

"That's enough chit chat for now," Director Fury booms over the hubbub. The noise dies down almost immediately except for the Iron Man, who is drawing a complex diagram of Scott's glasses. I squint to make out the numbers and symbols on the chalkboard.

"If we just add this here, we can fine-tune the projection of the beam to one-tenth of a..." The chalk stills on the board as Iron Man becomes aware of the quiet classroom.

"You can finish your science project later," Director Fury says. I am impressed at the authority of his one-eyed glare. Iron Man crosses his ams over his chest and puts on an exaggerated show of attentiveness.

"We are pleased that this first meeting has gone so well," Professor X intoned. "And we are eager to begin training and planning between our two groups. The initiative is off to a wonderful start."

Director Fury knocks his knuckles on the cherry wood desk. "Alright then, my guys, let's go. Helicarrier's waiting."

"Avengers assemble," Tony says. His tone is mocking, but the Avengers team comes to the front of the classroom anyway. Before he takes his leave, Thor cups my shoulders in his big hands. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Storm."

The way he says my name imbues it with the beauty it has always lacked in mortals' mouths.

"Ororo," I say. "That's my real name."

"Ororo," he repeats.

Behind us, Iron Man is saying loudly to Scott: "I'll email you the new designs tomorrow morning. Do you by any chance know the measurements of your head? And nose width?"

"I will see you in training," Thor says. He picks up his hammer and I feel the electric current that passes between him and his weapon. It makes the hairs on my arms stand up.

And then he and his team are gone.

Jean sidles up to me, smiling. "So..." she says, letting the syllable dig inquisitively.

"They were nice," I say, denying Jean a single crumb of girl talk.

"They were also suspiciously beautiful. All of them. Did you notice?"

"I did," I say, gathering my coat and bag. Absently, I doodle cirrus clouds into wispy formations above.

"That Natasha sure knows her way around Spandex," Jean goes on. "And Dr. Banner, talk about your silver fox. You'd never guess he goes all..." Jean makes a grr face. "And Thor," she continues. "The man, the myth, the legend, am I right?"

I come out of the skies. "He seems like a competent ally," I say. I sweep from the room with a grin.

Behind me Jean scoffs. "A competent ally?" she repeats. "Really?


	2. Chapter 2

"So this is where you train?" Thor says. He revolves slowly as he peers at every corner of the room, up to the ceiling, down to the floors, as if he hopes to find a secret within these walls. He carries Mjolnir in a loose grip by his side, but otherwise, has forgone his usual armor and cape.

I have never seen him in casual clothes—today, a red V-neck sweater, jeans, and canvas sneakers. He could blend in at any coffee shop or football game. When he arrived at the mansion so dressed, he caught me off guard, but now that he is distracted, I study him. He wears Earth clothes well.

I wonder who took him shopping. Black Widow? Perhaps Iron Man. I have seen clips of Tony Stark on the news and he always looks debonair. He also has the money to dress a god. I imagine the two of them in a department store and clear my throat to keep from laughing.

Thor looks down at me. "This is a metal dome," he says, "A large metal dome, but still. On my world, we train outside, we have obstacle courses and equipment."

I point to a large machine in the glass office. "It is a simulation space. We call it the Danger Room." I smile to acknowledge the silly name. "From that switchboard, we can make this…large metal dome any space we wish."

Thor looks incredulous. "Is the simulation believable? Would it fool a god?"

"I don't know," I say as I saunter to the box. "We have never had a god here. But then," I push a few buttons, "Beast is very good and this room is his creation." I flip a final switch and the metal dome becomes a dense jungle.

I can barely see Thor through the thick foliage. The humidity is incredible and beads of water drip from the upper canopy. I climb through the vines and roots. Thor stands in the clearing and his posture is tense. He holds Mjolnir tight.

"My brother excels at illusions, too," he says.

"These illusions serve to help," I assure him. "Not trick." I touch his arm. His sweater is soft like cashmere.

He nods. "Tell Beast his Danger Room could fool a god."

I shake my head. "I'd never hear the end of that one. I choose not to inflate the ego of my team members."

Thor laughs. It is a warm, full sound—like the last bite of a rich cake or being tucked into a soft bed. I wipe the perspiration from my upper lip. I may have set the jungle temperatures too high.

"Beast and Tony should put their heads together," Thor says, "I almost shudder to think what they might come up with between them."

"Cyclops won't stop raving about the new glasses Iron Man engineered. Precision to within 1/10ths of—"

"A nanometer," Thor finishes. "Yes, Tony has mentioned it quite a few times."

We laugh and a moment passes where we just smile at one another.

A large drop of water splashes on the tip of my nose. The water is as warm as a bath.

"I'm going to change the setting," I say to Thor. "Any preference?" I shout over my shoulder as I reenter the dense undergrowth.

Thor follows. "May I also look at the machine?" he asks. I am impressed that he does not beat the vegetation away with his hammer. It is hard for me to navigate and he is twice my size. He wrestles with the vines as I do and slips into the small spaces to avoid tree trunks.

"You may," I say, coming to the machine. It is hardly visible, draped in vines. I pull the plants off the buttons and begin pointing out the various settings. I glance at Thor's profile. He stares intently at the switchboard and nods as I speak.

"I would like to try one," he says.

I step out of his way. "Go for it."

He hooks his hammer into a loop at his side and surveys the board.

I peek over his shoulder, but he moves into my line of sight. "I'd like it to be a surprise."

I fold my arms over my chest. I don't do surprises very well. Abruptly, the jungle disappears and the blank Danger Room materializes. For a full minute, Thor presses buttons, flips switches, and turns dials just so. He turns and smiles at me. Excitement dances in his bright, blue eyes. He presses the final button.

We are standing on a walkway looking out over an unfamiliar city. The golden roofs are washed in starlight and in the distance, I can make out a body of water that sparkles in the city's glow.

"What is this place?" I ask.

Thor leans out over the rail. "It is a very close approximation of Asgard."

I breathe in sharply. "You managed all this?"

"Beast's machine is very good," Thor says.

I join him at the railing and look out over his pseudo-Asgard. "It's very beautiful."

He nods. "Yes, it is." He stares down at his hands. They grip the railing tightly. I don't know why, but I reach out and touch his knuckles. His hands slowly relax and he smiles at me. "Your Earth is also beautiful. I have seen only a fraction of it, but what I have seen…"

"Besides the aliens and leveled downtown of New York?" I tease.

He chuckles. "Yes, besides that. Loki—he dropped me from a very great height a few months ago and I fell in a meadow. And although my mind was occupied with great trouble, I was struck by the simple beauty of grass and flowers."

I push his shoulder. "The god of thunder is a romantic," I tease.

He nods. "I suppose I am."

I pat his hand. "Me too."

We stare out at pseudo-Asgard in silence. It is a surprisingly comfortable silence.

A gentle breeze runs through my hair. It feels like an Earth breeze.

I snatch a strand of the wind and manipulate it through my fingers. I hold the strand in my palm and turn it into a small vortex. It whirs quietly. I blow gently on it and it runs down my index finger before falling apart.

Thor's eyes are on me. "I would love to train with you," he says, "Sometime."

I nod. "That would be nice."

We stare out over the golden roofs until Director Fury's voice snaps over the intercoms. "Playdate's over! Avengers, assemble!"


	3. Chapter 3

Tony, Steve, and Natasha leaned against the fence and watched Thor and Ororo hurl lightning, wind, and punches at one another.

Over the last few months, the Avengers and X-men had been training in the Danger Room under the supervision of Director Fury and Beast, and everyone agreed that something like this was bound to happen. It was more of surprise that Ororo had been the one to snap, considering her pacifist stance. She hadn't even joined in the training sessions very often, preferring to watch and give suggestions.

To prepare the Avengers and X-men for any given event, Director Fury had created different scenarios in the Danger Room and thrown together random teams to solve the crises—an alien attack, an AI army gaining independence, Loki returning with a gang of gods, natural disasters.

Unsurprisingly, the first few operations had been spectacular only in their cataclysmic failure.

During the very first mission, Clint shot Logan through the stomach with an arrow after Logan called Natasha "babe" (Clint swore to Nat that he'd been aiming for the terrorist with the Uzi _behind_ Logan and Nat assured Clint she could handle a little sexual harassment without him impaling their allies). Logan had almost stabbed Clint through the chest in retaliation. When Director Fury tried to reason with Logan, pointing out that his healing powers made any friendly fire a non-issue, Logan growled, "That ain't the point," before sweeping from the room. Shortly thereafter, Nightcrawler surprised Natasha when he teleported directly in front of her, and she broke his nose with a perfectly aimed high-kick. .

And that had been the most harmonious of the debacles.

Slowly, though, the teams won more missions than they lost, and some camaraderie had grown up between the two groups. Even Logan liked fighting alongside Thor, and the two of them had torn through an army of robots, hooting and laughing like they were in a barroom brawl rather than a fight to the death.

Scott and Steve had created a killer move that amplified and bounced Scott's eye beams off Steve's shield and with it, the duo could wipe out a battalion of aliens in seconds. Natasha taught Blink a leg toss that paired with teleportation had made Blink lethal in hand-to-hand and she was teaching Rogue and Kitty Pride some basic bone-breaking techniques.

Naturally, the X-men and Avengers challenged each other to one-on-ones just for laughs.

Almost all the men wanted to go up against the Hulk, but Bruce refused to participate. He preferred to fiddle with the Danger Room combox with Beast and insisted that no one wanted the "Big Guy" out and about. When Rockslide demanded a contest, Jean Grey offered to fight him instead and he backed down.

Other matches had been enthusiastically agreed to: Tony and Bishop had sparred for almost half an hour with a whooping audience and even Steve had submitted to a round against Colossus.

Thor and Ororo, though. Their fight was a little more personal and Steve, Tony, and Natasha were its only witnesses.

Ororo had been walking them around the campus, when she and Thor got into a teasing argument about who had true mastery of the elements—Thor saying he was the god of thunder and Ororo retorting that she was the goddess of storms _and_ thunder and Thor asking where her followers were if she was such a goddess and Storm yelling, "Africa! Ever heard of it?"—and things had escalated into this head-to-head. They had been going at it for almost ten minutes without either getting the best of the other for long.

Thor was clearly more powerful: his attacks were leveling trees left and right, but Ororo was so at ease in the sky, she made it look like dancing or a natural extension of walking. And even though she wasn't a god in the same sense as Thor, her power was awesome. Moments ago, she had encased Thor in a block of ice and buffeted him from side-to-side with high-speed tornadoes and a thousand daggers of ice. Thor had burst free, looking harassed and then, begrudgingly impressed, before calling down seven or eight spikes of lightning that Ororo dodged in a series of balletic flourishes and twirls.

"When do you think they'll realize they're evenly matched?" Natasha asked Steve and Tony as Ororo threw a gust of wind at Thor that leveled a tall oak, but didn't seem to ruffle Thor's hair.

"Never," Tony said, "Thor's holding back. He wants to see all her tricks before he crushes her."

"My money's on Ororo," Steve said, pointing to the weather witch in the sky. "She plays to her strengths; Thor just throws his muscles around without a strategy." As if on cue, Thor hurled Mjolnir at Ororo with all his might and she lifted herself out of its path.

Her rich laugh carried all the way to trio.

"Didn't hear you complaining about his strength at the Battle of New York," Tony said. He rubbed his beard. "You'll see. He'll blast her out of the sky any minute."

Ororo jumped up and round-house kicked an explosion of icy air at Thor that left icicles in his hair. He shook his head to knock loose the tiny stalactites, then smashed his hammer on the ground and more pillars of lightning stabbed out of the sky. This time, Ororo grabbed on to the lightning bolts and rolled them into an energy ball that she threw at Thor with a curve that would have impressed any baseball scout. Thor absorbed the lightning into his hammer with a cocky grin.

"She could change the air pressure in his lungs," Natasha mused aloud. "Make it so he can't breathe."

Both Tony and Steve's mouths dropped into aghast O's at the suggestion.

"That's dark," Steve said.

Tony shook his head. "When you think you've thought of all the ways to kill a man, Natasha goes and says a thing like that."

Nat smiled like a Cheshire cat and pushed her damp hair off her forehead. "We don't even know if Thor needs oxygen like us. He's a god. Too bad I don't have any mutant powers."

Steve shuddered. "I think you're powerful enough without the ability to crush your enemies' lungs with your mind."

Nat smirked. "It never hurts to have more skills in your utility belt. Then again, I've gone straight and I suppose S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't approve of that kind of abuse of my talents."

Tony shrugged. "They were going to use an unknown alien power box to create weapons."

"True," Nat said. "True." The three contemplated this in silence, watched Thor and Ororo's attacks grow more splendid and comprehensive.

Ororo had just heaved three cyclones in quick succession at Thor and he managed to dodge the first two, but the third knocked him off kilter. He stumbled back a few feet, before catching his balance and raised a brow of appreciation at Ororo's strike. She grinned and crooked her finger at him, tauntingly, rising higher on the wind. Tiny threads of lightning raced along her skin.

Thor swung his hammer and launched into the sky, directly toward Ororo, but at the last possible moment, she released the airstreams that held her aloft and landed gracefully on the soggy grass.

Thor let go of Mjolnir midflight and hurtled to the ground like a comet. He landed on his feet in a wide stance and his cape billowed in the wind. Natasha wondered if he was manipulating the breeze for just the right sort of wafting motion. She smirked as Thor lifted his fist and Mjolnir zoomed back into his hand.

A whip of lightning cracked from the hammer and lashed out at Ororo. She caught the strands in her hands and redirected the energy with a full rotation of her body back at Thor. The heat from the lightning singed Tony, Steve and Nat's faces and they all retreated a few feet, with shouts of surprise and in Tony's case, pain. He had a small, red burn across the bridge of his nose.

Thor and Ororo didn't even look over. Thor took the lightning Ororo had thrown back at him straight to the chest and bellowed, "It tickles, Ro! You'll have to do better than that!"

She laughed again and raised her arms to the heavens, palms up. Thor looked skyward for an attack, as did Tony and Steve, but Nat nodded.

"Good girl," she murmured, as Ororo drew her arms back to herself in a quick, rowing gesture and a gust of wind hit Thor from behind and knocked him toward her. Not expecting the blow, Thor was hauled forward like a puppet and landed face down at Ororo's feet. She flipped him over with another gust of wind and in so doing, tangled him in his cape. She knelt and placed her finger on his forehead.

Tony, Steve, and Nat didn't hear what she said, but Thor's wide grin flashed brightly.

Tony handed Steve a hundred dollar bill and grumbled about Thor holding back.

Steve patted Tony's shoulder. "It's all in the strategy," he said, "Playing to your strengths."

Natasha shook her head. Steve and Tony were both wrong. Those two had been flirting, not fighting.

Tony and Steve turned to head back to the school, but Natasha lingered a little while longer.

Thor was still on the ground, wrapped in his cape and Ororo knelt at his head, talking softly to him. All the rain and wind had evaporated and the sun was as high and bright as if it had always shone just so.

Ororo's dark brown skin was dewed with rain droplets and the sun shone on her white hair like a premium salon treatment. A coquettish grin curved her lips and Thor burst forth with laughter at something she said. She brushed his damp hair off his forehead and let her hands rest on either side of his face. They didn't say a word, just stared into each other's eyes, but the air was more charged now than it'd been in the very height of the storm.

Natasha turned away. Tony and Steve were great big idiots.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor didn't show up at the next few Playdates—as Director Fury had taken to calling the training sessions between the two groups—but Ororo would not stoop to asking where he was. Not even when a perfectly legitimate opportunity arose when Tony complained loudly that unlike some people, he took the Playdates seriously. The question weighed heavily on her tongue, but she kept silent.

Jean Grey, to whom Ororo had less qualms about a little self-centered whining, reminded her that Thor was not only a god, but king of another realm and that it wasn't fair to expect him to dedicate all his time to Earth. She twisted the knife even further when she said that humans must be downright boring to him, and she only realized that this was not the thing to say when thunder growled nearby. Jean's comments bothered Ororo because they had the awful reek of truth and she begrudgingly admitted that a little flirting hardly counted as a romance.

Still, every visit of the Avengers raised her hopes that he would be among them and every disappointment was acute. By the fourth such no-show, she convinced herself that she didn't mind one bit. Besides, she got on very well with the others, especially Natasha.

The friendship surprised Ororo and it didn't make any more sense on close scrutiny. She and Natasha were polar opposites, a storm and a spider. Even with her guard down, Natasha was exacting and cool-headed. She also had a remarkable gift for fading into the scenery, a skill made all the more incredibly because she was so beautiful. Ororo could well imagine how she became a top spy and in some ways, she envied Natasha. Ororo's black skin, white hair, blue eyes and Amazonian build commanded attention whether she wished it or not. Even more damning, she wore her heart outside her chest and her emotions could trigger torrential downpours, tornados, and blizzards.

She was more like the Hulk than Natasha, and the comparison frightened her. Bruce Banner could no more hide than Ororo—even when he wasn't giant, green, and roaring. Everyone knew he was an adrenaline rush away from transformation. The bespectacled man who loped around the grounds and spoke quietly with Beast and Jean was nothing like the figure on the news reels and something about the incongruity of his change—his potential for incomparable destruction-unsettled Ororo to her core. Even though she made every effort to treat him as she treated the others, she had to admit that she didn't seek out alone time with him.

"You're being ridiculous," Jean had insisted when Ororo confided her fears. "You're not afraid of me." The two so rarely discussed Jean's dark turn that the casual mention surprised Ororo. "Besides," Jean continued, "he's only dangerous when he's green. The others—take Natasha, for example. She's dangerous in her pajamas."

Ororo hadn't pressed it. She knew she sounded too much like the anti-mutant protesters, afraid of what she couldn't understand.

That's why it was a relief when she and Natasha found themselves on the basketball court, watching some of the younger X-men, plus Clint and Tony, playing a game rife with cheating and power displays. The teenagers wanted to show off for the Avengers, but Ororo suspected Tony and Clint wanted to impress just as much. Why else would Tony be wearing his suit? And Clint had already sweated through his T-shirt, though the day was mild. Ororo and Natasha were supposed to be keeping score, but they'd long since stopped paying attention: they were trading war stories about being outnumbered by men.

"It's worse for you," Ororo insisted. "You're all on your own. I've at least got Jean. And the others—Rogue and Kitty—are young, but very powerful."

Natasha smiled. "I don't think of myself as an Avenger so much. I'm still just a SHIELD agent and SHIELD has plenty of women. Actually, I think you'd like a few of them. We should get drinks."

"Okay," Ororo said, dropping her voice. "Who's the most insufferable? Is it Tony? Something tells me it's Tony."

Natasha seemed to take the question more seriously than Ororo meant it and she sighed. "If I'm being totally honest, Bruce can be hard to deal with."

"Bruce?" Ororo repeated, shocked. "But he's so…mild."

"He can be sort of gloomy, actually. Going on and on about being a monster. And I get it. I've done some horrific things. So have Tony and Fury and Clint. And yeah, the Hulk is more literally a monster, but Bruce doesn't give himself credit. He's done a lot of good as Bruce and the other guy. We're all a mixed bag. Honestly, Steve's the only person I can think of whose pure. He kinda gives me hope." She rolled her eyes. "I know that's cheesy."

"No," Ororo said. "I get it." She stared at her hands and tried not to remember all the havoc she'd wrought before she had a decent hold on her powers and maybe some after, too.

"I sometimes wonder if we should have brought him in."

"Steve or Bruce?"

"Both of them, actually."

Ororo frowned, suddenly suspicious of Natasha's gut spill. "Did Director Fury put you up to this?" she asked. "Trying to test my loyalty to the team?"

Natasha laughed. "I'm glad you suspect me," she admitted. "Means you're smart. But no, Fury didn't ask me to spy on you. I thought we were having a conversation."

Ororo peered down at Natasha. She needn't have bothered. Natasha was the best liar in the known universe; nothing as simple as her facial expression would reveal the truth. Ororo decided to believe her, that they were having a conversation as friends. "I wonder if they feel that way. If Steve wishes he'd never been brought out of the ice and Bruce wishes he'd stayed in retirement."

Natasha tilted her head. "Steve's too noble to even admit that sort of thing to himself. But Bruce resents the hell out of me for coming to get him. I've seen that resentment up close and it's not fun."

Ororo watched as Tony slam dunked the ball into the net with the help of the rocket blasters on his feet. Actually, they were probably something more high-tech sounding, a goofy acronym of some sort.

"And Thor?" she said after a sufficient pause. "How is he? To work with?"

Natasha smirked. "He's a good fighter, a little headstrong, a little cocky."

Ororo nodded. These were all traits she had deduced on her own. She wanted insights she didn't already have. But she was too proud to ask. Luckily, Natasha took mercy on her.

"He was actually involved with a woman from Earth."

Ororo tried and failed to keep the surprise from her face.

"Jane Foster. Brilliant astrophysicist. Years ahead of most people. Stark's company has been chasing her for a year and a half."

Ororo tried to say "Good for her" but the words lodged in her throat.

"She broke things off with him," Natasha said after a painful silence. "Couldn't pine away after some god who didn't visit."

Cottony clouds skittered across the clear blue sky. "No, couldn't do that."

"He took it pretty well," Natasha added. "He's a good guy."

Thor and a beautiful scientist. Nothing but the best for our boy, huh?

When Ororo didn't reply, Natasha pushed forward. "And you? I heard you were a queen consort for a time?"

"Yeah, for a while. But things didn't work out."

Natasha nodded. "There are some cute guys around here. Bishop. Logan."

Ororo's face warmed up and she pointed at the basketball court. "We're supposed to be keeping score," she said.

"I'm multitasking," Natasha said with a smirk. "Ask Steve. He'll tell you how good I am."

"I don't think my dating life is so dire I need your help just yet," Ororo said.

Natasha shrugged. "I'll give my unsolicited opinion anyway: long distance isn't always a deal breaker." She loped away to replace Clint in the basketball game as he had just collapsed on the sidelines, unable to keep up with all the teleporting, telekinesis, flight, super speed, and super strength on the court.

When Natasha's meaning became clear to Ororo, a hot flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. How very high school, she chided herself. She might as well send Thor a note by Director Fury: Do you like me? Circle yes or no. Or better yet, she could write it in the clouds. Maybe he could see the words from the Rainbow Highway or whatever it was called. She stalked back to the mansion, but not before hearing one of the kids shout, "Black Widow's cheating more than anyone!"


	5. Chapter 5

Actions

Ororo struggled to hold back the deluge of water for another minute as the X-men below evacuated the last few stragglers in the village. There had been a lot of grumbling about this particular mission: several X-men, led by Logan, of course, grumbled that if the people were stupid enough to ignore the meteorologists' reports that the storm would flood the valley, they ought to take their punishment. Ororo had not-so-patiently explained that many of these people were old and poor and had nowhere else to go. And since when did they start deciding who deserved to be saved. The complaints quieted after that.

Ororo had estimated she could give her team ten minutes to get everyone to higher ground before the rain had to fall. Although the effort was not truly a physical one, her arms ached from holding the storm in place. She whispered an apology to the clouds as they strained against her. Almost like sentient bodies, they knew they should already have spilled their burdens and something unnatural stood in their way.

"A couple more seconds!" Ororo yelled into her comm. The wind snatched her voice away and she heard the crackle of the ground team's response, but not the words. Her abdomen was tight with effort. It would have been easier to redirect the storm than to try to halt is progress for a few minutes, neither pushing nor pulling it in any direction. But redirecting weather had consequences, as Ororo well knew.

A bolt of lightning hissed so near, Ororo felt its temperature against her skin. How odd, she thought. Cold lightning. The resultant thunder sounded like laughter.

Ororo looked over her shoulder to see Thor hovering in the air, his hammer above his head like a small helicopter blade. She should really ask him about the mechanics of that thing.

"They only need a little more time," she called, trying not to beam like a teenager asked to the prom.

"I'll help," Thor offered. He lifted his hand and—

"No!" Ororo shouted. "I'm not trying to move it. Just hold it."

Thor's bemused expression was so endearing Ororo wanted to tuck it away for later study. "I did the research," she explained. "The best option is to evacuate the village and let nature take its course. If I move it off someplace else, we'll just create a different set of problems."

Thor nodded, submitting to her expertise. "I will help you hold the storm," he announced. He lifted his free hand above his head like a waiter balancing a tray of hors d'oeuvres. The full weight of the storm lifted from Ororo.

"Hey!" she said, tossing a stiff breeze that caught him in the stomach. "You said, 'help.' Not 'take over.'"

Thor flashed his sunshine grin and gave Ororo some of the burden, but not very much.

"Stop insulting me," she said and glowered until he gave over almost half the storm's power. She smiled at him, happy to have someone to share this with. Her friends down below didn't know what it meant to hold a storm's power in your hands, to feel one with nature like this.

Thor pushed the clouds a foot or two higher in the air.

"Show off!" Ororo accused.

He shrugged and the dense muscles of his arms and back rippled. Ororo realized he was out of his armor again, this time in a navy blue t-shirt, jeans, and red canvas sneakers. He looked like he was taking fashion advice from Steve today.

"We…out…I re…out!" Ororo's comm blared the incomplete message, but she got the idea.

"Okay," she called to Thor, "we can let her go!"

"Her?" Thor asked.

Ororo lifted her chin and gave Thor an imperious look, one she had perfected as a goddess, a queen, and then as the person giving commands to the likes of Logan. "You didn't think this beauty was a man, did you?"

Thor smiled again, teasing.

"Let her down easy," Ororo warned. She lowered her arms slowly and the winds immediately picked up. Thor followed her lead, still wearing that distracting smile. "We better hurry," she said. "The clouds are going to burst any—."

The rain splashed down on her in an icy stream and she squeaked in surprise. She thought she had more time than that. But when she saw the mischief dancing in Thor's eyes, she realized he had pulled a trick.

"Was that payback for last time?" she asked, referring to their mock fight a few months prior.

Thor closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Maybe I just wanted to see you all wet," he said and his deep voice rumbled in Ororo's chest.

Before she could think of a snappy retort, he aimed his hammer and hurtled them across the sky. They were out from under the storm in no time.

"I could have flown on my own," Ororo pointed out after she caught her breath. Thor had released her on landing, but she could still feel the heat of him against her. It was not unpleasant.

She watched his easy grace as he hooked Mjolnir to the special loop on his jeans. Was the hammer weightless to other inanimate objects? And how exactly did it define worth? Never mind. She had a better idea than talking magic space hammers. She tore a piece of cloud off from the sky and emptied its contents over Thor's head.

He laughed with shock. His golden hair turned dark against his skull and his T-shirt clung to him in very, very good ways. He was easily the most handsome man—well, god—Ororo had ever seen. He looked like a spokesperson for expensive cars with impressive horsepower. Or one of those rippling men who adorned the covers of cheesy romance novels. Only then his shirt would have been open to the waist, revealing the warm skin beneath. It was almost a physical effort for Ororo to drag her eyes from the breadth of his chest to his face. A knowing smile curved his lips.

"What are you doing here?" Ororo asked to break the tension. Tension, what tension? she said to herself in a noticeably hysterical pitch.

"I was in the neighborhood," he kidded. He tunneled his fingers through his wet hair and rivulets of water ran down his face.

With a lazy flick, Ororo pulled a hot breeze from the Nairobi desert and dried Thor and herself. It was kind of a shame. The dry t-shirt obscured too much.

"Thank you," Thor said.

Ororo nodded. "Just in the neighborhood?" she asked.

Thor looked down. "I was actually on Midgard to speak with Jane Foster." His eyes were careful when he met Ororo's gaze and she willed her expression to be neutral.

"The scientist?" she asked. If the thunder sounded closer than the storm they'd left behind, that had nothing to do with Ororo's feelings. Nothing at all.

"Yes, she has become something of an expert on the Infinity Stones I seek."

Ororo nodded, having no clue what Infinity Stones were and not in any condition to pretend interest. "I heard that Jane is something of an expert in a lot of things," she said. Did her voice sound screechy? Her voice sounded screechy.

Thor nodded. "She is a rare woman," he admitted. "And it is lucky for the fate of the realms that she and I could remain friends after the romantic part of our relationship ended." Did he give Ororo a "look" as he said that? He gave her a look, right? "She doesn't wear armor or a uniform, but she is a hero."

Ororo smiled. "It's always good when exes can get along for the good of the universe," she kidded.

Thor took a step toward her and placed a warm hand on the bare skin of her shoulder. "It is also nice when strangers become friends who work together for the good of one, small village."

He was so close now Ororo could see the different flecks of blue and amber in his eyes. A blush blossomed on her cheeks and the nerve endings on her skin were sending frantic He's touching you! messages to her brain that were incredibly distracting.

"Infinity Stones?" she squeaked, suddenly not at all ready to take the next step.

"Ororo," he said. His hand ghosted along the column of her neck and cupped her cheek. His thumb dragged along her bottom lip and her breaths escaped in drunken, faltering puffs. "I didn't come here to talk about Infinity Stones," he said. "Or Jane. Or small villages in a valley."

Ororo felt dizzy and excited and terrified all at once. The light pressure of his thumb against the sensitive skin of her lips was exquisitely distracting.

"What did you come to talk about?" she asked.

The curve of his smile was dangerous. "I didn't come to do much talking at all."

He leaned forward and Ororo's eyes fluttered shut and

"Ororo-[screech]-establish contact…[squawk]… if you can hear this, establish contact!" Ororo's comm screeched in her ear and she jerked away in surprise.

Thor pulled up short and frowned when Ororo flicked him an apologetic smile.

"I'm here," Ororo snapped angrily.

Logan chuckled in her ear. "Did I interrupt?" he asked, just as the Blackbird's engines became audible. The X-jet's cloaking turned off as the plane landed a couple hundred yards away.

"Goddamn you," Ororo muttered and Logan's laughed outright.

"We've got somewhere to be, Sweet Cheeks."

Ororo growled low in her throat, but it didn't sound as intimidating as she would have liked. She smiled another apology to Thor. "We promised we'd do clean-up behind the storm," she explained. "I have to go."

Thor nodded. (It wasn't like he could balk, Ororo reminded herself. He'd been on a different planet for the last few months, fulfilling his obligations. Ororo was a busy girl.) Before she could think herself around to indignation, though, Thor grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles. "Next time," he said and the promise of it made Ororo's knees weak.

"Next time," she repeated.


	6. Chapter 6

"I have to ask again, Thor, how is this any different from Jane?" Lady Sif thrust her short sword toward Thor's chest and in one smooth motion, he parried the blow and jabbed for her navel. She jumped backwards.

"Point," he said. He wiped the bead of sweat from his temple and adjusted his grip on his weapon. He and Lady Sif had been sparring for almost half an hour, going back and forth about the wisdom of him getting involved with Ororo. Thor wanted to say _Wisdom, be damned_, but he didn't want to repeat his earlier mistakes. Losing Jane had hurt more than he'd let on.

Lady Sif had seen right through him, as Loki and his mother would have. But Sif had let Thor grieve privately. The only signs of comfort she offered were refilled mugs of ale and distracting Fandral and Volstagg when they wanted to involve Thor in high-spirited shenanigans.

But when Thor went to Midgard a few weeks ago to see Jane about the Infinity Stones, the pangs of tortured loss hadn't shot through his bones. Instead, he'd kept one part of his mind focused on Jane's impeccable science and the other part, coming up with perfectly sound arguments why he _shouldn't _go see Ororo when this was all over.

The reasons were plentiful: she was a Midgardian with a lifespan many times shorter than his own, she lived on Earth and he on Midgard, she lead a team of superheroes on world-saving missions and he was a king, she was the most beautiful person he had ever met, inside and out. He couldn't resist the temptation to see her, had struggled against his better judgment and lost.

He felt silly and undignified asking Tony to find her, and Tony's smirk had only increased Thor's embarrassment.

"Ororo Munroe is in Brazil with her team of X-men," Jarvis said. "There is a village in peril of flooding."

"While we're off fighting aliens," Tony muttered, not entirely under his breath.

Thor didn't make time to answer as he took off—the wind so loud in his ears he could pretend he didn't hear his subconscious screaming "This is a bad idea!"

And when he'd seen her, commanding the clouds, looking every bit a queen of awesome power, he'd lost all his sensibilities, had flirted shamelessly, had almost kissed her flower-petal lips.

Lady Sif swatted his side with the flat of her sword. "Point."

Thor nodded, held up his hand for a break. "It's not different from Jane; it's every bit the same mistake. But, Sif…" He sighed and held out his hand for his hammer. It came to him from the bench on the edge of the training yard. "I have never made decisions based on fear."

Lady Sif sheathed her sword. "This I know to be true," she conceded, "but fear is often a warning that our next steps could be fatal."

"You speak as if I contemplate war, not love."

Lady Sif raised her eyebrows. "You speak of love? I thought this was a mere infatuation. Maybe _love_ changes things."

"You mock me," Thor said, but he smiled. "As well you should. I never have done things by halves when I could throw myself into them entirely."

"This," Lady Sif said, "I also know to be true." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I would like to meet this woman who has turned your head so completely. Perhaps you see her through a distorted lens."

"I'm positive I do," Thor admitted, "but I am also sure if you looked at her, you would fall in love."

Lady Sif laughed. "I much prefer to watch you and the Warriors Three turn to mush-headed fools than to join in your folly."

"Just you wait, Lady Sif. You will come across some man or woman who will change your heart."

"But not my mind," she said. She softened the retort with a teasing smile. "Come, let us go to Heimdall, so I may see this beauty."

"You mean, we should go to Midgard now?" Thor asked.

"Why not? Don't you have a playdate scheduled?"

"I didn't mean to go," Thor confessed. "There is still trouble in Vanaheim. I am going to assist Hogun."

Lady Sif stared at him. "You are running away. Vanaheim will still be standing when we return." She arched her eyebrow in that way of hers that precluded argument.

Thor opened and closed his mouth several times around weak protests and excuses. "On the condition that you stop me from declaring myself to her."

Lady Sif shook her head. "You are in very big trouble, Thor."

He sighed. He really, really was.

Thor and Lady Sif left the training grounds and walked through the vast halls of the palace. Sentries stood at attention as they passed and both he and Lady Sif nodded at the guards.

Thor knew that many people wondered why he and Lady Sif hadn't married or at least, had a dalliance. There was no way to miss it: Lady Sif was stunning, a warrior, and a friend. And yet, Thor's feelings for her had always been familial, as had hers toward him. She was protective of his heart, which many people had mistaken for jealousy over the years, but theirs was a purely platonic relationship. It certainly would have made things easier if it were otherwise. Lady Sif and he shared life expectancy, a home, and many memories. But Thor always had made the wrong choices. And loving Jane and now, falling for Ororo fell very neatly into that category.

"Heimdall," Thor called out, when he and Lady Sif reached the gates.

"I am here," Heimdall said. He inclined his head to Thor and gazed warmly at Lady Sif. "Thor is right, my lady. The weather witch is very beautiful."

"I suppose you've fallen in love with her, too?" Lady Sif teased.

"There have been beautiful women before her; there will be beautiful women after her."

Thor and Lady Sif thought he would say more, but he went back to staring out over the realms they could not see.

"Would you drop us down at the mansion?" Thor asked. "Lady Sif wants to meet her."

Heimdall nodded. "It is my duty to obey my king."

"Is it just me," Lady Sif whispered, "or does he always sound rather unwilling when he says that?"

Thor laughed and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he and Lady Sif were standing on the mansion lawn.

"You're really screwing with our landscaping budget," Warren Worthington III said, sitting up on his elbows. He had been sprawled on his back in the grass with his wings spread to their full width, enjoying the autumn warmth. The Bifrost had burned its sigil into the lawn right by Warren's head.

Lady Sif jumped. "You have wings," she said in shock.

Warren nodded. "You have a sword. This is a strange game."

"Are the others meeting in the Danger Room?" Thor asked. He knew that Warren sat out of the Playdates because he didn't want to be a hero. He'd made a pretty compelling case that a mutation that gave him wings didn't necessarily make him an angel.

Warren nodded. "You're late."

"I'm a king," Thor pointed out.

Warren rested his head in the grass again and closed his eyes. "What a strange game."

"Are all their mutations so extreme?" Lady Sif asked as Thor led her into the heart of the mansion.

Thor explained about the various mutants he expected Lady Sif to encounter today, from the blue Beast to the surly Wolverine. Lady Sif was enthralled by the range of powers the mutants displayed.

"They are becoming like gods in their own right," she marveled.

Thor agreed. Too bad their lives were still so heartbreakingly brief.

The Danger Room locked from the inside during simulations, so Thor took Lady Sif into one of the observation boxes. Jean Grey, Banner, and the Beast were huddled at the window. Thor cleared his throat and Banner turned first.

"Thor, it's been a while."

Introductions and greetings were exchanged. Jean said very little, but Thor could feel her eyes on him. He remembered that she had telepathy and he wondered if her powers worked on Asgardians, if she could only see what he was thinking right now or everything happening in his mind. The conflict and want and hesitation and love.

Lady Sif pressed her face to the glass and looked down into the Danger Room. Banner explained the situation Director Fury had rigged up in which half the team were being mind-controlled by Loki's scepter and the other half had to contain the rogue team members. Thor glanced down and swept the battlefield. The setting was the Stark Tower. Bishop, Hawkeye, and Kitty Pride were in a containment box, but Captain America and Iron Man were still locked in a fight. Thor couldn't tell which of them was "mind-controlled."

He looked across the way into the second observation window on the other side of the room. Director Fury, Logan, and Ororo were watching the fight below as well. Thor tapped Lady Sif's shoulder and pointed at Ororo. Just then Ororo looked up.

Her smile hit Thor like a head butt from Volstagg. He beamed back at her and mouthed hello.

"We have microphones in both rooms," Jean Gray said in a tone that might have been hostile, if Thor cared to interpret it. "She can hear you."

"Hello, Ororo," he said, "is it 'next time' yet?"

He watched as Ororo ducked her head and bit her bottom lip. "I think it is."

Logan cleared his throat. "I'm trying to watch some violence if you two lovebirds don't mind."

"I want you to meet Lady Sif," Thor said, ignoring Logan. He beckoned Sif closer to him.

"Um," Lady Sif said, "hi."

"Thor speaks highly of you," Ororo said.

Lady Sif inclined her head. "And of you."

"I don't have any money on how this fight ends, if you want to walk the grounds," Ororo said.

Thor and Lady Sif acquiesced, and so, to Thor's surprise, did Jean.

He got the sense that Jean didn't like him very much, or at least, was very angry with him. Of course, they had only spoken a handful of times, and Thor _thought_ each of those conversations had ended on friendly terms. Lady Sif shot him a questioning glance and he shrugged.

Ororo met up with them in the hallway and the four walked out on the grounds. It was a beautiful day, pleasantly cool and sunny. The sky was achingly blue, the trees fiery red. Thor inhaled the crisp scent of apples, leaves, and summer breathing its last.

"I'm glad I could come on such a beautiful day," he said to Ororo. She walked on his left and Lady Sif on his right.

Ororo smiled. "I can never decide if I prefer sunny days or thunderstorms."

"Sunny days," Jean said firmly. "Even a storm of your own making is still a storm. Capsized boats, flooding, downed power lines."

"Jean," Ororo said.

Jean held her hands up in surrender.

Lady Sif tried to smooth over the awkwardness. "I think I prefer sunny days, too, if only because battles are much harder in the rain. Thor, remember when we had to protect Alfheim from the giants and during the whole campaign it rained?"

"But it was warm rain, like the kind Ororo makes. So it wasn't so bad."

"Warm rain, cold rain," Jean muttered angrily.

Ororo laughed. "Look at us: a king, a warrior, a telepath, and a witch talking about the weather."

Her laugh was like thunderstorms and pealing bells and racing down the Bifrost. Thor could feel himself falling and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. But he had learned from driving a chariot that sometimes it was better to lean into the out-of-control skids and come out the other side. He reached for Ororo's hand and intertwined their fingers. He looked down at her and she peeked up at him through her eyelashes. She squeezed his hand and he felt dizzy with affection.

Lady Sif elbowed him in the side, but he pretended not to notice.

"There's a lake nearby?" he asked.

Ororo nodded. "It's a bit of a walk."

"I don't mind," he said, "if it's with you." Lady Sif elbowed him harder this time and Jean coughed loudly.

"I don't think Jean is feeling well," Ororo said sweetly.

"Maybe Lady Sif could take her back to the mansion," Thor suggested.

Sif scowled at him darkly. They had all come to a stop. Thor caught Ororo's other hand and they gazed at each other.

"I wouldn't know how to find you afterward," Lady Sif said pointedly.

"I'm fine," Jean insisted.

"Jean always catches cold when the weather changes like this," Ororo confided.

"Lady Sif is an excellent nurse," Thor said.

"Jean is a terrible patient. Sneezing and telekinesis are a violent combination."

"I think Lady Sif is more than up to it."

"I think Jean should go to bed before it gets worse."

"I think you're right."

"Enough!" Lady Sif shouted. "You two are as subtle as a battle ax. Never say Jean and I didn't try to stop you."

Thor watched in bemused surprise as Lady Sif grabbed Jean's wrist and dragged her back toward the mansion. Jean looked torn between wanting to follow Lady Sif and staying behind to chaperone Thor and Ororo.

Ororo smiled sheepishly. "I may have asked Jean to keep us apart. And she may resent you for turning me into a soft-headed idiot. Her words."

"I may have asked Lady Sif to keep me from telling you how much I like you. And she may think that it's foolish to fall for a Midgardian."

Ororo nodded. "This can't work."

"It will end in heartbreak."

"Are some broken hearts worth it?"

Thor cupped Ororo's face in his hands. Her skin was soft and warm, the color of rich umber, and the contrast of her blue eyes—like earth and sky—was electrifying. Or maybe the electricity was between them. Ororo tilted her chin and parted her lips. And Thor, who never did anything by halves, pressed his lips to hers with gentle tenderness.

The rightness of it went through him like a lightning strike.


End file.
